


When Atticus met Dean

by Whatnotwhynot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, High School, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 15:37:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatnotwhynot/pseuds/Whatnotwhynot
Summary: His name was Atticus Loveston, and he was in fact the low budget version of Dean.With off colored green eyes, a lighter olive skin complexion (complete with scars) dark gelled up hair, a black out-of-date leather  jacket, chunky biker boots and a shark tooth necklace with the initials ML carved affectionately at the bottom.~The sun eroded when Atticus met Dean.





	When Atticus met Dean

1996

Summerhill Highschool

His name was Atticus Loveston, and he was in fact the low budget version of Dean.

With off colored green eyes, a lighter olive skin complexion (complete with scars), delicate bone structure, dark gelled up hair, a black out-of-date leather jacket, chunky black biker boots and a shark tooth necklace with the initials ML carved affectionately at the bottom.

Sam Winchester made it a point to stay away from people like Atticus Loveston, but when Atticus (and his posse) saw Sam Winchester that very first day in Mrs.Caswell's Literature class, Sam knew Atticus had steaked his claim.

* * *

"Hey freakboy!" The shout echoes across the cafeteria, bringing unwanted attention upon Sam. Atticus smiles as he takes Sam's milk from his tray. Sam just sighs in mild irritation. _Atticus, Atticus, Atticus._ "Whatcha'doin?" The boy smiled brightly, like one of those models on the front of top story magazines. The wide smile reveals hidden dimples. Sam looked over at Atticus, and sighs once more.

_Atticus, Atticus, Atticus._

"Reading," Sam replies softly. "As you can see." The red book has no cover. The pages are burnt around the edges, and falling out by the seams. The book is taken from Sam before he can protest. Atticus screws up his face in discontentment. He flips through a few more pages, before dropping the book with a lost interest.

"Moby Dick, HA lame." Atticus scoops some of Sam's mash potatoes into his mouth, before leaving. Sam did not stop him. Atticus wasn't a threat. He was annoying, and tried too hard, but he wasn't a threat.

* * *

The sun eroded when Atticus met Dean.

It's afterschool, and it was raining. Well rainsnowing. The rain (snow) makes a pitiful sound against the wet pavement, as unwilling teens pour from the warm highschool building into the wet massacre waiting for them outside. Sam sat safely by the dry stairs waiting for Dean. He watched from where it wasn't wet and miserable, as kids pile into cars fleeing from the thundering storm.

"Hey, freakboy!" Sam threw a disgusted glare over his shoulder. Atticus clapped him on his back his gelled up hair wet against his face. "Nice work tripping in the hall huh? You really kissed that floor. Huh, Sammeh?" Atticus had this _way _of saying "Sammy" that annoyed the ever living shit out of Sam. Turning the "ME" into "MEH" every chance he got. 

"It's Sam," Sam stresses out, but Atticus just rolls his eyes, and sits down next to Sam watches as a girl struggles to run in blocks red heels. Atticus chuckles devilishly as the girl stumbles and tries to balance herself. 

"Okay, _it's Sam. _Why haven't you got gone yet?" There is a flicker of care in those puke green eyes. Sam feels a flutter in his chest.

Atticus was... Atticus. An enigma that even Sam couldn't solve. "Waiting." The boy mutters, too tired to deal with the older teen's antics. Atticus chews on his toothpick thoughtfully, shuffling closer to Sam as a cold wind bristles by.

Atticus smells like wood chips, hair gel, cologue, and leather.

"Waiting for what?" The tone is filled with outrighteous concern, which is undoubtedly more terrifying than any monster Sam has ever fought. Sam is about to answer when a voice shouts out behind them—

"It's friggin' cold out here! Goddamn."

Sam cracks a smile, and gets up to meet his brother halfway at the door. Atticus retreats into himself, becoming shy at the presence of a new person. The puke eyed teen puts his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, and slowly follows after Sam. Dean frowns almost immediately. "God Sam you could have waited inside. You don't have a jacket or nothing either." Dean pressed his warm hands to Sam's face like an overbearing mother; Sam swats his hands away. 

"I'm fine Dean!" Sam whines, his face heating up remembering Atticus was still here. Dean meets Atticus' eyes at the door, and he breaks into all smiles and niceties. The teen looks Dean over with an appraisal in his eyes. Sam thinks it's funny how much their expressions mirror eachother.

"Sammy, who's this?" Dean says with a notable hint in his tone.

"At—"

"Atticus Loveston," Atticus states, giving Dean a firm handshake. "And you are?" Sam has never seen Atticus smile like that, which was worrisome to say the least. Dean doesn't seem fazed, he breaks out a shit eating grin same as Atticus'. 

"Dean _Winchester_. Like the gun."

"Well at least you aren't _Dean Hellsing?_" The two boys laugh together, and it drowns out the sound of the pitiful rain, and the thunderous lightning. 

The sun eroded when Atticus met Dean.

* * *

Atticus had a lot of bruises and scars.

Sam hated P.E, because Atticus never was Atticus in the locker room. With cigarette burns along his wrists, and harsh whipping scars across his back in a jarring criss cross pattern. Sam had always called Atticus Loveston's eyes puke green. The kind of green that made you puke. The kind of green that was just too bright against Atticus' olive toned skin, but in the lockeroom his eyes are dull and heavy.

Sam watches Atticus struggle putting on his shirt. It's painful to watch. The black and blue bruises against the skin is an indication of broken ribs. As Atticus pulls the shirt down, over the bruises, he hisses in pain. Which also causes Sam to hiss in pain cause those ribs are definitely broken.

~

One day, Atticus catches Sam staring. He smiles mockingly and licks his already soft, red, lips. "Take a picture it'll last longer," Atticus teases and Sam looks away red faced.

~

Sam was worried about Atticus. His puke green eyes reminded Sam more of dying moss green now. He didn't smile as much, or take Sam's food, or laugh at Sam for falling in the halls, or running into poles. He didn't make fun of Sam for reading "stupid-smartypants-books" as he would call them. The only thing the older teen seemed to have enough energy for was laying next to Sam at lunch and listening to Sam read.

"In a hole in the ground there lived a _hobbit_**. **Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a _hobbit-hole_, and that means comfort."

So Sam read to Atticus, and tries to feed him applesauce as he did. He brushes Atticus' dark hair from his even darker eyebrows during the duration of lunch, and even as the lunchbell rings signifying it was time for class.

* * *

Atticus seems better now, which is a relief to Sam. The boy shouts and smiles, and runs, and teases, and laughs. The older boy is definitely back to being Atticus. Even Dean smiles when he sees Atticus next to Sam when he picks his brother up in the Impala.

"Hey Atti, wanna a ride home?" Dean would call from the window as storm clouds brewed above head, and Atticus would casually shake his head and smile, dimples and all.

"No thanks Dean-o."

...And Atticus would disappear down a side road with only his worn out bag tossed over his shoulder, and the out-of-date leather jacket on his back.

~

Atticus passes out in P.E. Sam is the only one to call the coach over and tell him. Everyone stares at Atticus' unmoving body, but Sam doesn't. He gets the coach to help his _friend_.

Atticus may be Atticus; Annoying and teasing, try hard Atticus, but Atticus was his friend.

~

The nurse doesn't do much, but call Atticus' dad and prescribe him "a day of rest and sunshine." Sam wants to punch her in her smiling face cause, Atticus needed medical attention not "rest and sunshine" but he doesn't cause if he does his dad will yell at him, and Dean will be disappointed in him.

Coach Willis (the person who helped carry Atticus to the nurse's office) tells Sam to head to class and that Atticus will be fine.

Sam doesn't believe him.

~

The day Atticus doesn't come to class it rains in Sam's heart and outside Mrs.Caswell's classroom.

* * *

Atticus never comes to class again.

* * *

Dad tells Sam that there's a hunt in Wyoming they have to do, cause "people are dying" but Sam doesn't want to go, because he never got to say goodbye to Atticus, but Dean gives Sam candy and helps him pack his duffle, and says "It's okay Sammy. He probably moved."

Sam misses the way Atticus said "Sammeh"

_Atticus, Atticus, Atticus._

* * *

Sam Winchester is older now. His girlfriend died, his dad died, and his brother only has a few more months to live. So yeah, overall he's doing okay... Ha.

"Vengeful Spirit stabbing people in Sunnyside, Pennsylvania. Hey didn't we go to school there wasn't it called—"

"Summerhill Highschool," Sam interrupts his brother with a soft smile, Dean grins wickedly.

"Oh yeah I remember that place, Lucy Harring, that one cheerleader, oh the rack on her." Sam mutters "_pig_" underneath his breath as he stares out the window feeling like he was forgetting something.

_Two months, two months. _

~~

"What was the first stabbing in the area?" Sam asks the blonde police officer. Her name is Officer Nancy Coles, she is an older woman, with wrinkles forming around her eyes and mouth. She looks up for a moment in thought, before her eyes widen and she pulls something out from underneath her desk.

"I was just looking through this case, it happened back in '96. Sixteen year old got stabbed by his father twenty-two times. Ah. The Loveston case, still haunts me." Her grey eyes look at Sam expectedly.

"Can I take this?" Sam asks.

She nods.

* * *

_Atticus, Atticus, Atticus._

Sam looks at the pictures, and feels faint. Atticus looks so small. Not like Sam remembers, all bravo and so annoyingly _Atticus_. He just sees a fresh corpse detailed with _twenty-something_ stab wounds puncturing the flesh. Sam grips the picture and sighs unable to see through the blur of tears assaulting his vision.

_Atticus, Atticus, Atticus._

* * *


End file.
